


The Force Has Forsaken Us

by rc1788



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Gun Violence, Jedi, M/M, Past Brainwashing, Polyamory, Post-Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Samsteve - Freeform, The Force, sambucky - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-06 00:26:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12200304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rc1788/pseuds/rc1788
Summary: Sam is a former Jedi Commander that served in the Clone Wars. He escapes the Jedi Purge and falls in with a smuggler named Steve, an ex-Separatist that knows a thing or two about resisting the iron fist of the Empire. While the galaxy reels from the war and the hostile takeover of the Republic, Sam and Steve go into hiding on Mandalore. But when Sam confronts an old friend, he uncovers a plot that means the Empire isn’t done with the Jedi yet.





	1. Gravity

**Author's Note:**

> I can't thank Anna ([@giantsandshadows](http://giantsandshadows.tumblr.com)) enough for the beautiful artwork!! Please enjoy the art throughout the fic, or view it directly here: [Link to Artwork](http://giantsandshadows.tumblr.com/post/165770733495/for-the-samwilsonbirthdaybang-it-was-a-fun)
> 
> I also want to thank my beta readers Jo (oh_no_oh_dear), Amber (rebelslicious), and Raven (fanficwriter013), and Birdie (neuromagpie)! I also want to thank Linda (fancast_productions) for listening to me scream about Star Wars on and off for two months.
> 
> I don't really have much else to say besides I love Sam Wilson and Star Wars, and I plan on writing more in this universe. Enjoy!

_Breathe_.

Samal Wilos pressed his eyes closed and brought his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Centered himself. The Force was an open and aching wound, burning deep in his chest. What was once a comforting omniscient presence now served only to hurt him. He inhaled and felt the resistance of a thousand sharp blades, exhaled and felt the weight of drowning.

_The Force has forsaken us._

Sam threw back his head and stared up at the hazy red lights of this Lower City back alley. Coruscant--the city planet that was the capital of the Republic--swarmed with soldiers ready to kill him. With troopers invading the Senate and Jedi Temple, patrols in Lower City were scarce. Still, Sam couldn’t linger here. If he was discovered, he’d end up--well--one with the Force.

Safe passage to the Outer Rim was the only option. The farther away from Coruscant, the better. Staying here meant being hunted down and slaughtered. The Force would guide him--whatever was left of it.

Sam shrugged out of the plain beige robes of his trade and finally got to his feet. His legs protested and ached, but he couldn’t rest any longer. Standing with the fistful of fabric, unsure what to do, he quickly tore it to shreds and stamped it in a puddle of grease and grime. Stowed it in a dumpster.

The symbolism of such a gesture was not lost on Sam as he scowled and stalked out of the alleyway in his thin undershirt. _Force be damned_.

“Back off!”

Shouting from the nearest skywalk drew Sam’s attention. The scuffle was far enough away that Sam was certain only the Force had guided his ears to hear it. He ground his teeth together, clenched his jaw, decided _why not_? and started for the direction of the scuffle.

A small near-human stood with a blue shield-generator in one hand and a hydrospanner in the other, facing off with two Nikto thugs. The Force swarmed with anger around the near-human, devoid of fear, which caught Sam’s attention. He couldn’t explain it, but he felt drawn to that Force imprint. He trusted his instincts--it’s why he was alive and not shot dead at the Jedi Temple.

“Give us the droid and nobody has to die today,” one of the Nikto hissed.

The Nikto had _Black Sun_ gang written all over them, and the near-human stood between them and an R5 droid. Sam instantly had an idea.

“There you are!” Sam called to the near-human. “I’ve been waiting for you to bring me this unit. Republic surplus droid, right?”

All eyes turned to Sam and he stood tall with his hands on his hips, surprising even himself with a pleasant smile.

“Uhh, sure,” said the near-human. “Republic droid. Right.”

“What?” one of the Nikto snapped.

“You risked a lot going up against CSF to get your hands on that droid for me. This unit is _dripping_ with CSF spikes and trackers.” Sam knew he was practically reading a bad crime drama script, and all he had to do to add some weight to his words was direct his attention to the two weaker-minded Nikto thugs. _It’s all true._

“ _Fierfek_.”

“Forget it! This Hutt-spawn can keep his Republic-marked garbage. Let’s get out of here.”

Sam let out a barely audible sigh of relief as the Nikto retreated off of the skywalk and disappeared into the Lower City crowd. The near-human turned toward Sam fully, and Sam heard the R5 unit chirp.

“Who the hell are you?”

Sam should have expected the question, but he didn’t have an answer. “Someone looking for a friend.”

The other man lifted his chin at Sam and squared him up with the kind of scrutinizing gaze Sam imagined came from a life on these Lower City streets. Sam noticed the blue circular tattoo on the man’s neck and side of his face and recognized him immediately as a Kiffar.

“You’re a Jedi.”

The bottom of Sam’s gut dropped and, recognizing his own fear, he steeled himself against it and quirked a brow.

“There’s a bounty on Jedi.”

“Looking to collect?” Sam asked, his tone dark and devoid of any previous friendliness. This one couldn’t be mind-tricked, Sam was certain of that.

“No. I’m doing fine without handouts.” The young man deactivated his shield generator and looked down at his droid, who turned and angled its face back up at him. “You need a ride, don’t you?”

“If I stay here, I’ll die. Or worse.”

The young man smirked and pointed his hydrospanner at Sam. “You’re gonna need to stop looking like and acting like a Jedi if you want a ride with me, pal.”

\---

The Kiffar pilot owned a freighter so old it could have been from the First Republic. Sam stood in the ship’s dingy cargo hold while his new friend sorted through a bin and tossed items of clothing on the floor at Sam’s feet. A jumpsuit, boots, gloves, and helmet.

“What should I call you?” Sam asked the Kiffar.

“You can call me Steve. Captain Rodjers also works.”

“Very well, Captain.”

“And you?” The Captain turned around and folded his arms. The oversized jumpsuit he wore did not help his small stature. Unlike most spacers, the Kiffar did not wear a blaster on his belt, although Sam wasn’t convinced he didn’t have a small holdout blaster stowed somewhere on his person. While the pilot was unintimidating at first glance, Sam was keen to the fierce glare on his face, and the way the Force seemed to swarm around him like hot steam. The Captain intrigued Sam, but this was hardly a time for deep character study. All Sam needed was a ride.

“I’m Sam.”

The Captain smirked. “And you _are_ a Jedi.”

Sam shrugged, felt a heavy invisible weight on his shoulders lift and dissipate. “I was. Now… now I’m desperate.”

Steve nudged the helmet on the floor with his foot toward Sam. “Ubese envirosuit. Put it on. We have to submit for inspection before we can leave the port. I rigged the vital scanners to imitate an Ubese heart rate and respiratory rate. They won’t make you take it off cuz an Ubese would die in this atmosphere. Should be enough to get you out.”

Sam picked up the helmet and frowned at it. He should have been alarmed at how the Captain already had a quick getaway idea for somebody on the run. This had _smuggler_ written all over it. “Why are you helping me?”

Steve paused with the lid of the cargo bin in his hands. Without looking at Sam, he glared down at his hands and said: “Because a Jedi helped me out once.”

\---

Less than twenty four hours passed since the newly-appointed Emperor Palpatine issued Order 66 and sentenced every last Jedi to death. The Grand Army of the Republic, an army of clones at the command of the Jedi, spent three bloody years defending the Republic from Separatist forces that threatened to undermine their entire galactic civilization. Jedi and clone troopers fought side by side, taking back system after system from Separatist reign, until the Emperor seized power. Nobody, not even the Jedi Council, knew the Emperor would order the clone army to turn on their Jedi commanders and slaughter them.

Sam narrowly escaped the assault forces that invaded the Jedi Temple. He got lucky. He was one of the few. (Maybe even the last.) The time to grieve was not now, and the war prepared his heart to harden against that distraction.

 _One with the Force_.

Four white-armored troopers armed with DC-15 rifles boarded Captain Rodjers’s ship and started searching. Three of them tore through cargo bins while their squad leader ordered the Captain, Sam, and the droid to line up at the cargo bay hatch.

Sam stood rigid with his fists clenched at his sides. His mask breathed with him, rasping, in and out and in and out. He fought alongside troopers like these for years. Sam trusted them, and they trusted Sam. They were clones--with the same faces, but different hearts--living a life meant for fodder but deserving so much more. These troopers are following orders--orders that have kept them here on Coruscant, away from battlefields and the threat of death. Sam’s heart broke for them. They’re being used as bullies--but _weren’t they always_? Never given a choice to be anything else.

Sam swallowed the wave of nausea overtaking him as the squad leader finished questioning Captain Rodjers.

“Do you have a permit for these blasters?” the trooper asked.

“Right here.” The Captain held out a tablet, which the trooper snatched up and examined.

“Checks out,” said the trooper before thrusting the tablet back into Steve’s hands.

The Sergeant moved away from Steve and looked Sam up and down. Sam was a mere inch taller than the clone trooper, but it meant nothing when staring into the faceless helmet. _There’s a man inside that_ , Sam reminded himself.

“Name and occupation,” the Sergeant ordered.

“Hank Dressell. Mercenary.”

“Submit for body scan.”

Sam lifted his arms, and the Sergeant ran a scanner over his person. The other three troopers completed their search of the ship and formed up behind their Sergeant. The subtle nod of their helmets indicated a private conversation over their comlinks.

Sam’s breath caught in his throat.

The Sergeant paused and read the scanner. Then he lifted his helmet and motioned for the squad to move out. “Clear.”

Captain Rodjers waited for the troopers to clear out of the hold before he smacked the control panel and closed the hatch. “ _Fierfek_ ,” he swore. “That went better than expected.”

Sam tore off his helmet and followed the Captain through the freighter, up a ladder from the cargo hold, then down a narrow passage that opened up into the cockpit. He sat next to the Captain, and the Kiffar started programming the navicomputer.

“Where to?” he asked Sam.

“I--I don’t know. The Outer Rim.”

“How about… Mandalore?”

 _“Mandalore_?”

“Yeah, why not? They’re no friends of the Republic.”

“Or the Jedi.”

“You’re not a Jedi anymore,” Steve reminded him with half a smirk. “Besides, I have contacts there.”

Sam nodded. “Very well. You can drop me off at the port.”

“What?”

“You’re only giving me a ride, as I understood it.”

“ _No_.”

The _no_ was so emphatic that Sam had to turn and look at Steve, catch the fierce look in his blue eyes. Something about the Captain changed--softened, almost--and the Force turned light and sweet around him. Steve shrugged his shoulders. With two hands on the ship controls, he guided them out of the docking bay.

The Captain took to programming the navicomputer with the help of the astromech droid, being sure to plot a roundabout course that would be harder to track.

The two men leaned back in their seats and watched the array of stars glide past them through the viewport. Sam inhaled deeply and let out a sigh. The Jedi was tense, and with good reason--the Mandalorians and Jedi had a feud that spanned a millennia, and the intergalactic war pitted them against each other once again.

“We all need friends right now.” Steve said into the silence.

\---

_He’s there again, hiding in the thick foliage of the forests from his homeworld, and Steve knows he’s dreaming, except the war he’s dreaming about is now over. He still feels the rush of adrenaline as he holds an EMP grenade and watches the oncoming Republic tank surrounded by a platoon of clone troopers. Steve’s palms sweat and his gut turns as he pulls the key from the grenade._

_“In the trees!” Steve hears from below, but he’s already thrown the grenade._

_Blasters fire. The tree splinters and he’s falling._

Steve jumped and woke up, seated in the pilot chair of his ship. The HoloNet streamed news across the ship’s dashboard, but the signal got weaker and weaker.

_“Breaking news on the HoloNet… live from Coruscant, troops invade the Intergalactic Senate…”_

_“Chancellor Palpatine, having gained control of the Senate, declares himself Emperor…”_

Flailing to try and recover the signal, Steve realized it was impossible. The Empire jammed it, and broken updates came through.

_“... mass chaos, GAR troops cut down the Jedi…”_

_“.... no survivors at the Jedi Temple….”_

_“The HoloNet News is dedicated to bringing you the latest from this Senate takeover. We will not be silenced--”_

The transmission frizzled out. Steve shut his eyes. He swore this would never happen. Fought to prevent this. Watched his friends die resisting the Republic’s senseless war, only to watch the galaxy fall to tyranny.

“ _Beep-beep_.”

Steve’s R5 astromech unit, plugged into the master control panel in an effort to recover the HoloNet, swiveled its “face” toward him.

“Yeah, I know, Arf,” Steve told it. “I’m not turning him in.”

“ _Beep_!”

“The bounty is _what_? 100,000 credits?” Realizing he shouted that, Steve leaned toward Arf and glared at it. “Well. _Kark_. That’s… a lot.”

“ _Boo-bee-bee-boop_.”

“No. What would we even do with that kinda creds?”

“ _Beep_!”

“A new ship? What’s wrong with this one?”

Arf made a disapproving hum sound.

“It’s not a piece of junk!”

Steve heard something behind him and glanced over his shoulder to find the Jedi standing in the doorway to the cockpit where Steve sat. The Jedi-- _Sam_ \--borrowed an extra jumpsuit and was starting to look a little more like a genuine spacer than a man who probably meditated daily.

“H-Hey,” Steve said nervously. How long had he been standing there? Or did it matter? Couldn’t Jedi read minds? _Jabba’s tooth_ , if Steve got done in by a Jedi after all these years, wouldn’t _that_ make for a perfect ending.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Captain,” said the Jedi. He kept his face unshaven and Steve noticed a few grey hairs in Sam’s beard. Like most Jedi, Sam looked like he could be 30 or 300 years old, the weight of the Force on his shoulders aged him well beyond his actual time in the galaxy. Steve cracked a smile at him.

“It’s okay.”

“What news is there of Coruscant?” Sam asked in a low voice.

“Coruscant is now Imperial City, if that tells you anything.” Steve realized his tone was rather flippant for having survived a hostile military takeover. Sam’s brow furrowed. “Senator Palpatine is calling himself Emperor Palpatine, and he’s pinning the war on the Jedi. Says that’s why he took them out. And the Separatists surrendered.” Steve rubbed his hand along his jaw, sighed into the stale air. Steve felt like he’d been punched in the gut. “How are you holding up?”

“I…” The question made Sam’s face wilt. He shook his head. “I truly don’t know.”

A breath escaped Steve and that stabbing feeling in his chest got worse. He’d only ever met a handful of Jedi in his life, and he hated all but one of them. Then there was Sam--whom he met completely by chance only a few hours ago--and he was unlike any other Jedi Steve knew. He was… _humble_. Steve refused to believe something like “the Force” brought Sam into his life, though. The galaxy was full of coincidences. Some worse than others.

“ _In order to ensure our security and continuing stability, the Republic will be reorganized into the first Galactic Empire for a safe and secure society._ ”

A reporter took over the broadcast: “Chancellor Palpatine named himself Emperor in a swift and decisive Senate vote earlier this evening. The Emperor has declared a state of emergency on Coruscant. The Jedi Order has been revealed as the perpetrators of the civil war that tore the galaxy in half, and have been named enemies of the state. Some Jedi remain at large.”

The feed produced several advertisement screens which scrolled with the symbol of the Empire and phrases like UNITE AS ONE, THRIVE UNDER THE GALACTIC EMPIRE, PURGE THE GALAXY OF THE JEDI SCOURGE.

The last one felt like a punch in the gut and took Sam’s breath away. “Scourge, huh,” Steve muttered under his breath.

Then the screens changed and began scrolling wanted posters.

YODA - WANTED - DEAD OR ALIVE - 1,000,000 CREDITS

SIGNE AMRUN - WANTED - DEAD OR ALIVE - 100,000 CREDITS

Sam realized he’d stopped breathing for a moment, staring at the screens with a look of horror.

BATHOLDEMUS FLYN - WANTED - DEAD OR ALIVE - 50,000 CREDITS

The Mirialan pictured in the wanted poster had a Padawan braid. Sam knew him--a Healer in training--at the Jedi Temple the same night Sam escaped the slaughter.

SAMAL WILOS - WANTED - DEAD OR ALIVE - 100,000 CREDITS

Sam’s face was on all three screens. He knew the photo of himself well--a basic photo for the Jedi Archives, taken three years ago when he became a Jedi Master, before the war. He isn’t smiling in the picture, but his eyes are bright and his cheeks are full. Sam was a shadow of that Jedi, now--three hard years of war drained him of that thriving vitality. He no longer felt like the youthful Jedi Master in the photo. Maybe that was for the best.

Steve glanced over at Sam, who listened with an absent gaze. “If it makes you feel any better,” Steve said quietly, “I’m also a wanted man.”

“Really,” said Sam with surprising interest for looking half dead a second ago. “That doesn’t surprise me, Captain.”

“Huh? What tipped you off?”

“I met you in Lower City tangling with the Black Sun.”

Steve scoffed. “Didn’t the Jedi Order teach you not to talk to strangers?”

“No. Quite the opposite, actually. We were taught to seek out the lost and troubled.”

“I’m--” Steve couldn’t even pretend to be indignant. He folded his arms and slouched down in his seat, kicked a foot up on the dashboard.

“Trouble always finds more trouble,” Sam murmured.

Glancing at each other, Sam held Steve’s gaze for what felt like an eternity. The Jedi had galaxies in his eyes that Steve could get lost in. He forced himself to blink.

“I’m sorry,” Steve heard himself say, and for a guy that was hardly ever sorry about anything, he meant it.

Sam smiled a sad smile, his wordless gaze fixed on Steve in a way that made Steve’s ears turn a little pink. What else was there to say?

\---

Captain Rodjers’ ship, the _Liberty_ , was a small and humble freighter of three decades. Sam sat on a crate in the cargo hold while Steve and the droid (Arf, a very strange name) bickered over how to stack several large cargo boxes. Arf operated a small crane under Steve’s direction, and it was quite the spectacle.

“No, no, no! Stop! I said to the _right_!”

The crane swung one of the crates into the side of the hull with a loud _clang_. Arf beeped.

Despite the noise, Sam shut his eyes and smoothed over the tumultuous thoughts that clouded his mind. Coruscant fell. Palpatine declared himself Emperor. The Jedi… were gone. Sam’s chest burned like rough knuckles grinding on his sternum. Did the Order have a future in this hostile galaxy?

 _Sam_.

The bottom of his gut dropped out. Someone--calling him?

 _Sam_.

Distant, a scream that’s a whisper. Sam exhaled, felt the world around him fade.

 _Sam_.

_Yes?_

_Sam._

_Who--_

_**Help**_.

Sam gasped and dropped back into the real world. He remembered the cargo hold, and Steve--watching him with wide, scared eyes.

“I’m sorry.” Sam’s heart pounded and he felt faint.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Someone called out to him in the Force. And Sam knew who it was. The Force screamed _danger_. “I had a--vision.”

“Oh. Is that… normal for you?”

Steve’s frankness made Sam chuckle. “Yes, actually. I suppose it does not matter anymore, but… I am very strong with the Force.”

Steve put his hands on his hips and looked from Sam to the crates and the crane. “How strong?”

“Strong enough to move those crates, and know there’s spice in them.”

“I--” Steve went sheet white and Arf buzzed nervously.

Sam smiled. It was a lucky guess, but Sam was rarely wrong when it came to reading someone. And Steve was _very_ nervous about that cargo. “It’s okay. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“I thought you’d draw a hard line at ‘drug smuggling.’”

“ _Please_. I knew you were a smuggler the moment I met you. And I know you don’t smuggle stuffed bantha toys.”

Steve relaxed a bit and directed Arf to leave the crates as they were. “If there was a market for toys right now, that’s what I’d smuggle.”

Sam pursed his lips to keep from smiling, lowering his gaze to his hands folded in his lap. Talking to Steve was a welcome distraction from the distressing call from the Force. He’d never felt something with such clarity from a being that was not near him. And at a time like this, it could have been anyone--another Jedi on the run, even. Sam filed the thoughts away to meditate upon at another time. Right now, he needed to get to a planet where the clone troopers couldn’t hunt him.

\---

_200 Klicks Southeast of Keldabe, Mandalore_

_2000 Hours_

The ship slowed from its descent through the planet’s atmosphere, settling into a clearing beside a small homestead in what Sam would call _the middle of nowhere_.

“I couldn’t get a clear message to my friends about you,” Steve said apologetically. “I thought this could be better explained in person.”

Sam shrugged a shoulder. “I understand.”

The ship’s hold opened and a ramp lowered to the ground. Steve started down it first, while Sam lingered behind to survey the area. He took in a breath of fresh air. The nearest star, a small but strong yellow sun, hid behind thin grey clouds and the air cooled. A crisp breeze slapped the hot skin of Sam’s face as he got out of the speeder. Before them stood a circular structure built on the side of a hill, with small slits for windows and a door that looked like an airlock.

Steve looked back at Sam and held out his hand. “C’mon.”

Gathering his courage, Sam forced his feet to carry him down the ramp. His boots kicked up red dirt from the dry ground as he crossed the yard to the front door. Steve entered a code at the door panel and stepped inside.

“Sha’ron? Nat? I brought somebody.”

Sam peeked through the doorway and saw a Twi’lek woman with deep cerulean skin waiting for them inside. The house wasn’t much--a circular living space with a kitchen attached, and down a short hallway was a ‘fresher and two bedrooms. A semi-circular sofa with a table in the middle made up the furniture in the living room, and the rest of the fixtures in the home were stacked boxes, ammunition crates, and a blaster case.

The Twi’lek’s hand, poised over the blaster pistol at her hip, relaxed. “Ever heard of a comlink, Rodjers?” she hissed.

“It’s… been a day.” Steve looked back at Sam with a frown, then turned the pathetic look at her. “This is--”

“Sam,” Sam interrupted. He glanced at Steve and saw him fold in his lips nervously.

The Twi’lek’s expression was set to _suspicious_ with a glare at Sam. The Force imprints around her made a rushing sound in Sam’s ears. But when she looked back at Steve-- _oh_. He felt like he was floating.

“You brought an infamous Jedi back from Coruscant,” she said icily. “Tell me you got the cargo too.”

“Yeah, of course. Listen--I thought he’d--he’d be useful,” Steve stammered.

 _Ah_ , Sam looked down at his feet. Of course. Still, Sam sensed Steve’s panic, like he could feel the other man’s pulse in his own chest.

Another woman appeared from the hall. A Togruta with a fierce look in her eyes and a determination to protect the Twi’lek and Steve. “The only thing a Jedi is useful for now is the bounty on his head,” the Togruta said.

“ _Wait_.” Steve stepped in front of Sam. “He’s good. He’s a good one, Nat. He saved me from Black Sun in Lower City. ”

The Togruta--Nat--flexed her hand near the blaster at her hip. She was serious--she was a killer. Sam watched her and wondered if his life ending here would be better than a life on the run. Steve looked back at him and the Force grew around him, warm and welcoming. Sam shivered.

“We’ll see,” said the Twi’lek.

A door down the hall slid open and out stepped a Mandalorian in full armor--black and blue, singed with carbon dust and nicked with scratches, armed to the teeth with two blaster pistols. His helmet was removed, revealing the stern face of a man with a scarred right eye.

“Fury,” Sam gasped. “Sir.”

“Wilos. It’s about time you showed up.”

On the struggling planet Amio, three and a half years ago, there was a battle.

Ships on both sides of the conflict dropped bombs on the refugee camp where Sam was stationed as the fighting got closer and closer. To them, any camp could have been the set up for rebels, and neither side wanted the other to gain control of the resources. Sam tried to send a plea for help to the Jedi Order, but the Jedi wouldn’t get their hands dirty in the conflict.

For five brutal days, Sam took cover with the refugees until the rebel forces reached the camp. Many of the refugees were driven from their homes for the rebel cause. That was when Sam met a Mandalorian for the first time. Hired to work on the planet as a mercenary, the Mandalorian shifted his focus to work with the rebels.

_Nik Fury._

\--

“Sorry about before.”

The Twi’lek--Sha’ron--had a familiar intensity about her that bothered Sam to the point of feeling the top of his mouth _itch_. She handed him a bowl of what looked like soup, and a cup of water.

“It’s okay. I don’t mean to cause you any trouble. Captain Rodjers said--”

She guffawed and looked at Nat, then Steve. “You told him you were a Captain?”

Steve’s face filled with color. “It--seemed right at the time.”

“Listen, Wilos,” Fury cut in. He was the only one at the kitchen table not eating. “I don’t trust a Jedi as far as I can throw one. You--you’re different.”

“Yes, sir.”

“That doesn’t mean you get to stay here without pulling your weight.”

“I understand. I’m willing to help.”

“The things we do aren’t always legal.”

Sam cracked a smile. “My mere presence ensures that, sir.”

Fury almost-- _almost_ smiled. “Romav, I trust you can get Wilos up to speed on the kinds of operations we run. I need him ready.”

“Of course.” The smile Nat flashed at him was not entirely kind. “It just so happens I came across a set of Death Watch armor that might fit our new friend here.”

Sam went a little pale. “Death Watch? The ones that tried to overthrow the Mandalorian government with Maul?”

“Yeah!” Steve said. “Those guys. Hey, we can...repaint the armor for you.”

Fury got up from the table and held Sam’s gaze. He didn’t need to warn Sam about staying in line or causing him any trouble. Sam knew exactly what the man was capable of and what the consequences would be for causing his little clan any trouble. Sam simply nodded at him, and Fury disappeared to another part of the house.

\---

The Togruta was called Natahsha Romav, and she was a killer.

“Bounties, mostly. I case them before I pick them up. If I’m gonna go through the trouble of offing somebody, they better kriffing deserve it,” she explained to him one day.

She gave him a vibroblade to train with. She didn’t fight like a Jedi, but she was fast and cruel. Sam learned a lot from her. The Jedi taught him to spare lives when he could. Nat made him unlearn that.

“The galaxy’s out to get you,” Nat told him. “From here on out. Got that?”

“Yeah.” Sam was tired from wielding the heavy vibroblade for several hours. Nat smiled at him for the first time and told him to wrap it up.

Dirty, sweaty, and tired, Sam dragged himself from the training space in the yard back toward the house. He found himself alone since Nat went in the opposite direction to a storage shed to sort some items. The only thing that seemed to help him in this state of physical exhaustion was meditation, so he found a shady spot under the only tree in the yard and sat down.

Sam closed his eyes and felt a darkness bigger than anything swallow him up.

His mind recalled the night he escaped Coruscant. He was at the Jedi Temple when the clone troopers turned on the Jedi. The panic and fear and death still felt so real--and even still, reaching out in the Force was like touching a wall of ice. There, solid, but cold and uninviting.

Sam reached out, further this time, searching for the presence on the other side of the galaxy. _Who are you_? he whispered into the void. The silence felt like a thick blizzard and made the insides of his ears cold. Damn it.

\---

“Try it again,” said Steve gently. “You’re doing fine.”

Sam heaved a sigh and picked up another computer spike. He’d probably break this one like the rest, and still not get into the console Steve prepared for him. Never in a million years did he think he’d one day be trained by a smuggler how to break into a secured console.

The computer spike in place, Sam started working with the code to disable the security system. Finally, he got past the first line of defense and worked on the next. But the console sensed his tampering and sent a shock to the computer spike, breaking it. The connection fizzled.

“I’m not very good at this,” Sam lamented.

“Don’t worry about it. This takes practice.”

“Yeah?” Sam smiled. “And where’d you get your practice?”

“It’s how I got by for a while, before Fury found me. You’d be surprised how many aristocrats leave creds lying around in burner accounts.”

“A regular vigilante, huh?” said Sam.

Steve closed himself off to Sam’s mind. “Something like that.” He rummaged around the supply drawer and gave Sam another computer spike.

“I sense you’re a lot of things,” Sam murmured, taking the spike.

Steve didn’t let go, and he held Sam’s gaze. “Oh yeah?”

“I sense you are strong with the Force.”

Steve raised his eyebrows and finally let go of the spike. “Took you long enough to figure it out. You’re not the first one to notice.”

Something deep inside Steve began to unfold, a bundle of grief like a sickly flower.

“The Jedi came for me. My parents refused. Then when I was five, they were killed by pirates trying to deliver aid to Ryloth. I was taken by slavers and about to be sold when Fury rescued me, and the others--Nat and Sha’ron were there too. We’ve been together ever since.”

“And when the war started?”

“You’re right. The Mandalorians are no friends of the Republic.” Steve turned away and looked in the supply cabinet.

“You were a Separatist. You didn’t side with the Republic.”

“Something like that. It wasn’t all black and white, like you Jedi seem to make it.”

Sam inhaled sharply. He’d sensed Steve was hiding something, but he never knew what until now. “I know,” he said.

“It doesn’t matter now.”

“War matters only to the dead.”

Steve swallowed and turned his head toward Sam again, smiling a sad smile. “War takes a lot of good people. Jedi included. I knew one named Peggi. I’m alive because of her.”

“Jedi Master Cartra,” Sam whispered.

“You knew her?”

“She was my Master. She trained me.”

Steve pressed his mouth into a thin line and nodded. “She… well, I never thought of Jedi the same after I met her. I owe my life to her. So when I found you, I… knew I had to help. And she trained you?”

“It’s a small galaxy after all.”

“Hey, Rodjers!” Sha’ron called from the other room. “Suit up, we got a live one. Bring Wilos too. Disabled Republic ship on the dark side of Dxun. Untouched and ready to scavenge.”

Sam’s brow furrowed. That was a long time for a Republic ship to go unnoticed by the Empire. Steve touched him on the shoulder. “Get ready. This oughta be fun.”

\---

 _Derelict Republic Dreadnought, the_ Freedom

_Dxun_

The airlock depressurized and Sam felt his suit adjust to the change before his ears popped. Steve stepped ahead and pressed the door control, to no avail. He turned his head and looked back at Sam with a frown from behind his clear helmet visor.

“Hold on,” Sam said. He raised his hand and concentrated on the door, shifting it with the Force enough to allow them to squeeze through.

The ship was shrouded in darkness, not even the emergency red lights there to guide them. Sam’s suit whirred to bring up his body temperature. The ship’s life support failed hours ago, and the artificial gravity went with it.

“Let’s get this over with,” Steve said after they squeezed through the door. He pushed off and floated down the hallway, guided by the white light of his helmet lamp. The light reflected off the gray walls of the ship, barely illuminating a few paces ahead. Sam followed.

The back of Sam’s neck prickled. The ship reeked of death, extinguished life evaporated into the Force. It made him sick to his stomach, but he swallowed back the nausea and pressed on. The further they ventured down the darkened hallway, the less and less Sam could sense about the ship. It was a midsize battleship with multiple decks--too big for Sam to get a good read. And what he could sense was… unclear. Blurry, and static buzzed in his ears.

UPLOADING SHIP SCHEMATIC NOW.

The text scrolled in the bottom right corner of the helmet heads-up display, or HUD as the clones used to call it. Arf was on the ship feeding them information and it was the first time Sam could understand what the astromech droid said.

HIGHLIGHTING CARGO HOLD, ENGINE ROOM, BRIDGE, AND MEDBAY.

Another blast door wouldn’t open, so Sam applied a Force push to squeeze them through. This brought them into a command chamber with a high ceiling and multiple consoles. Sam half-expected to see what was left of the crew here, but the room was absent of anything but powered down machinery. A red light pulsed in the far corner.

The entire far wall was a transparisteel screen. The stars blended into the darkness of the room and for a second, floating inside the ship like that, Sam almost felt like he was actually outside of the ship in the vastness of space.

“What’s the status of those areas, Arf?” Steve asked. He pushed off from the doorway and carefully floated to one of the seats by a console and latched on. “Did any section of the ship lose pressure?”

NEGATIVE. NO HULL BREACHES ON SENSORS.

“Huh,” said Steve.

Sam followed Steve to the command consoles and used his hands to climb to another row. “What else can you tell us?”

ALL ESCAPE PODS DEPLOYED. REASONS UNCLEAR.

Steve looked up at Sam with a furrowed brow. “What about the ship’s logs?” he asked Arf.

THE LAST ENTRY IS DATED 27 HOURS AGO AND IT IS AS FOLLOWS:

All functions normal. Ship on course. Crew stable.

“No outgoing transmissions?” Sam asked, trying one of the consoles in case any power remained in them. Nothing. The information unsettled him, and no matter how hard he tried to sense anything from the ship, all he heard was static.

NEGATIVE.

“What the kark,” Steve muttered.

“What do you think?” Sam murmured. “Keep going?”

“Why? Getting scared, Wilos?”

“ _No_.”

Steve smirked and led them on across the command room, climbing over some of the consoles, and into another hallway. Each time a door opened, Sam held his breath. And on the other side, more darkness. Once they made their way to a new section of the ship, Arf sent them a message.

THIS AREA OF THE SHIP HAS BEEN SEALED OFF.

“Why?” Steve asked.

LIFE SUPPORT SYSTEMS REMAIN FUNCTIONAL IN SECTIONS 12, 16, AND 20.

“I _hate_ mysteries,” Steve muttered as he pulled a panel slicer from his suit and got to work on the door. Once he got it open, they stepped into a tiny antechamber and shut the door behind them. The area was quite small, and Sam realized too late that he’d be standing face to face with Steve while the chamber pressurized for a full minute. Their bodies were pressed up against each other, layers of suit and armor fabric between them. The artificial gravity initiated and slowly lowered their feet to the ground. Sam felt even heavier in the new set of armor. He felt pressure on his arms and realized Steve was holding him as the gravity kicked in, and hadn’t let go.

“Cozy,” Sam heard himself say.

“This is the tiniest airlock I’ve ever been in.” Steve released him and turned his eyes away from Sam.

“Yep.”

Steve couldn’t see through Sam’s visor. Sam, however, could clearly see Steve’s cheeks going a little pink behind his transparisteel helmet.

“What do you think happened here?” Steve whispered, like somebody was listening.

“There’s no sign of attack or ship malfunction.” Sam’s ears popped and the door to the other side of the ship opened. Sparing one last look at Sam, Steve led the way into the next chamber. Still, the ship was dark save for a couple of red flashing alert lights near the exits. His helmet lamp illuminated a table set with fully prepared but uneaten rations. Sam heard Steve sigh over the com.

“I don’t like this,” Sam concluded.

THE MEDBAY IS THROUGH THE SOUTH EXIT.

Steve walked over to the set table and stared at it. A clicking noise on a nearby counter made him jump. “ _Fierfek_!” he swore. “There’s a caffa pot brewing?”

“Automatic timer, maybe,” Sam muttered, having not exited the doorway leading from the airlock. His face crinkled in consternation. When explaining the scavenger mission, Steve had been very clear about what was at stake--thousands of credits could be salvaged from a ship like this, as long as there wasn’t too much trace of the Republic on the goods. Bigger operations would be en route to try and beat the authorities to stripping the larger weapons and heavy ammunition. The last thing they needed was to run into hostile scavengers, or worse.

Something in the air changed--like an electrical current was switched on--and Sam shivered.

From the darkened hallway, he heard the all-too familiar click of a lightsaber activating.

The blade was red.

Time slowed. The shadowy figure lunged at Steve. Sam activated his jetpack and crossed the room, colliding with the shadow before it could reach Steve. Sam’s HUD flashed warnings at him, and the panoramic view from his visor went red. _Lightsaber_ \--he dove and rolled away.

When he rolled to a crouching position, both his and Steve’s spotlights shined on the figure. A man in all black, face hidden behind a mask, and _yellow eyes_.

Steve swore and activated his shield generator. He aimed and shot a beam of energy at the shadow. Sam reeled. The lightsaber, the black cape--he’d only ever read about a Dark Force user, a _Sith_ , in the Archives. Was this really happening?

The red lightsaber deflected the energy beam, and the Sith charged at Steve. He was fast--Steve blocked the folly of lightsaber strikes with his shield, bright white light filling the room with every hit. Sam drew his vibrosword and activated it. The weapon was heavy and buzzed in his hand. The lightsaber Sam abandoned felt like a missing limb.

Ducking under a lightsaber swipe, Steve rolled out of the way and Sam jumped into the fray. The Sith came at him with fast strikes at Sam’s head, which he stumbled backward to defend against. _Clash clash clash._ The vibroblade shook in his hands with every hit. The Sith swung at him again and when Sam blocked it, the Sith punched him in the face with his free hand. _Clang!_ The hand was apparently metal. Sam reeled backward, unsure how the Sith was fast enough to clock him like that.

Sam parried the saber from his blade, and went on the offensive with a Force push that brought the Sith off his feet. The Sith fluttered backward and twisted in the air, regained his footing, and came at him again.

The Mandalorian armor restricted his arms and felt too tight and too heavy. The helmet blocked his senses. Sam growled and yanked the helmet off of his head. “Who are you?” he shouted.

The other man didn’t react except to swing the lightsaber at Sam’s middle. Sam blocked the hit, and another diagonal cross at his shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw Steve move, coming up behind the foe and landing a strike with his energy shield on his back. Sam took the opening and kneed the Sith in the abdomen.

The Sith retaliated by elbowing Sam in the teeth with his metal arm. Sam saw stars. The Sith’s other hand shot out and grasped Steve in the Force with a choke hold. The Sith raised Steve into the air as he squirmed and choked.

“ _Steve_!” Sam shouted, actually tasting blood in his mouth. Steve gasping for air made something _snap_ in his head, like a rush of water breaking through floodgates. “ _NO_!”

The Sith looked at him. Wide eyes surrounded by black war paint. His hand still outstretched, still holding Steve. When Sam’s eyes met his, he saw something--

A golden field--

Twin sunrise and purple sky--

They both looked at it, Sam and the Sith.

_WHAM!_

The distraction was enough for Steve to grasp for the caf pot and break it over the Sith’s head. He screamed and released Steve. Steve dropped to his knees on the floor, gasping for air. The Sith shook himself off and wheezed in pain, giving Sam just enough time to Force pull the lightsaber out of his hand.

The blade inactivated and flew toward Sam, but he missed the catch as the Sith took control and flipped the lightsaber in the air, and it hit the floor somewhere behind him.

The Sith tore his mask off and looked at Sam.

Sam knew him. “Bucky?” he gasped.

“Who the hell is Bucky?” Steve groaned.

He stumbled, looked between them with big, wide eyes. Sam reached out in the Force and felt something… shatter.

Then, the whole ship groaned and shook violently. The Sith stumbled and Sam took the chance at grabbing for his lightsaber, even as the room started tilting at a severe angle and caused them to fall toward the wall. But the Sith was too fast and the lightsaber returned to his hand.

Sam activated his jetpack and grabbed Steve around the middle, watching the Sith tumble before regaining his footing and orientation. He climbed over the table and chairs and crossed the distance between them with Force jumps off of the sideways furniture.

Sam guided his helmet back to his hand and swung it, clocking the Sith in across the face. Then he turned and headed back for the airlock while he put the helmet back on.

WARNING. ONCOMING SHIP. COLLISION IMMINENT.

The warning from Arf went unnoticed from the fight.

“Arf, we need a way out of here!” Steve shouted into his comlink. “We got a crazy guy trying to kill us!”

THAT IS UNEXPECTED. CALCULATING ESCAPE ROUTE. STANDBY…

They reached the airlock. The ship was tilted so far that the airlock was now above their heads. Steve was not very heavy, but Sam’s arm already felt the strain of carrying him straight up against the artificial gravity. He slammed his fist into the control panel button.

THE ROUTE THROUGH SECTION 12 WAS DESTROYED IN THE CRASH. WARNING: THE CRUISER IS ENTERING DXUN’S ATMOSPHERE.

Meanwhile, the Sith managed to jump from wall to wall (which was actually ceiling to floor) to reach them. He threw his lightsaber at them, and Steve deflected it with his shield.

Finally, the airlock opened and Sam dragged Steve inside. Once the door shut, they’d be locked in until it depressurized. Then they’d only have a few minutes head start before the Sith followed.

“ _Shab_ ,” Sam cursed under his breath. “We’re cut off from our ship.”

“Arf, you gotta come to us,” Steve said.

COPY.

“Who _was_ that guy?” Steve wheezed.

“His name is Bucky,” Sam said, voice thin. “I knew him.”

Steve wrapped his arm around Sam’s waist, as the ship was still sideways and the artificial gravity remained on. From behind his helmet, Sam allowed himself to close his eyes.

Bucky.

Sam thought he was dead.

“What happened to him?” Steve spoke in a soft voice. The artificial gravity lifted and they floated without the use of the jetpack. Sam let go of Steve, but Steve didn’t move his arm from Sam’s waist.

“He died. Or, I thought he died. Now he’s been turned to the Dark Side of the Force.” This explanation was insufficient, but it was all he could manage. The other side of the airlock opened and the command room they’d traveled through earlier was… gone. The jagged seam of the ship’s hull from the crash, and beyond the wrecked half of the room was open space. The side of the ship Sam and Steve were still on was steadily drifting downward to the moon of Dxun. They couldn’t survive the landing in this open section of the ship.

The _Liberty_ swung around a large chunk of ship debris and pulled up to the open half of the command room. The edge of the ship scraped against the edge and stabilized. Somewhere in the stable part of the ship, Bucky was stranded without an escape pod or space suit. Sam’s jaw clenched.

Still holding onto Steve, Sam crossed over to the ship with a burst from the jet pack. Arf opened the airlock and Sam set Steve inside of it. They floated together in the small space, clinging to each other’s arms.

“Sam,” Steve said. “Don’t--”

Sam nudged his head forward and touched his helmet to Steve’s forehead for a second. Then he pushed off of Steve, hit the control panel to start pressurizing the airlock, and let go.

“Sam!” Steve tried to reach for him, but the airlock snapped shut. Sam drifted toward the cruiser. “Damn it, Sam!” Steve shouted over the com.

“I’ll come back to you,” Sam said. “I promise.”


	2. Hope

“ _Bee-bee-bee-bee_!” Arf beeped at Steve in the cockpit. Steve grabbed the ship’s controls and interrupted his string of curse words to tell Arf: “Yeah, I know the scavenger ship is firing at us! What the hell is wrong with them, crashing into the ship like that!”

The ship shook with every hit from the scavenger ship’s cannons. Shield degradation warnings blared on the dashboard. Steve punched the throttle and swung the ship around, trying to put the cruiser between them.

“ _Boo-beep_!”

“Maybe they’re not scavengers? Huh.”

“ _Beep_!”

The moon Dxun’s gravity yanked the lifeless cruiser into its gravity and the ship started to enter its atmosphere in a blaze of orange fire.

“Is it gonna hold?” Steve asked Arf.

“ _Booooop_.”

“ _We’re_ not gonna hold?”

The shields failed. Sensors from all sections of the ship flashed across the dashboard. Then, a huge warship appeared out of hyperspace in front of them. The cruiser looked familiar, like the cruisers the Jedi used in the war, but it could only belong to one military now.

The Empire.

FIGHTERS ARE BEING DEPLOYED. PLEASE EVACUATE THE SHIP.

“No--I got this, Arf. I can fly us out of here and get to Dxun--”

I WILL PROVIDE COVER FOR YOU TO ESCAPE THE FIGHTERS.

“Dammit, Arf! You can’t go down with _my_ ship--”

IT IS OK. I WAS GETTING SICK OF YOUR SHIT ANYWAY.

Steve sniffed and got up from the cockpit with his helmet in his hand. Fuck. He looked down at Arf, still plugged into the ship’s main control panel. The droid’s head swiveled and looked at him with his single visual sensor.

GOODBYE STEVE.

\---

_Five Years Ago_

_AgriCorps Installment #734, Salliche System_

Sam did his best thinking on the roof of greenhouse 5.

It was no surprise when he heard someone climbing the ladder. Sam kept staring ahead at the twin suns setting in the purple sky.

“Thought you’d be here,” a voice said from beside him. Sam looked up at the man wearing a green AgriCorps jumpsuit, his square hat cocked to one side on his head. He had long hair pulled back into a bun, and his blue eyes glistened when he met Sam’s gaze.

“May I?” Bucky asked.

Sam nodded. He had his knees bent up to his chest with his arms wrapped around his legs, having given up on meditating over the day’s events. Instead, he watched the sunset and mentally scraped his fingernails over what happened. The Salliche government raided on the refugee camp to arrest rebel leaders responsible for the uprising that displaced thousands of people. Five refugees were killed in the fray--one was a child.

Bucky sat next to Sam, so close their bodies touched. Sam leaned into him. For a while they sat in silence, and all Sam needed was the touch of Bucky beside him.

“You haven’t changed much since the Jedi Temple,” Bucky said.

“Oh, yeah?” Sam cracked a smile.

“You think too much.”

Sam hummed thoughtfully. “You haven't changed either. You care too much.”

“Huh, really? That must be why I stayed up all those nights with you in the Jedi Archive while you read about holocrons.”

The memory stung. Bucky was not selected to be a Padawan alongside Sam and the rest of the Younglings in their class. Bucky was sent away to AgriCorps--and Sam had to let go.

Sam reached over and found Bucky’s hand, entwining their fingers. A calm coolness washed over him like the stillness of twilight.

Two weeks later, Sam was reassigned to a mining colony. And a month after that, Bucky was killed in another raid.

\---

Sam gasped and woke up.

_Not dead_?

Searing heat reached his face. His helmet was off, and he could smell burning durasteel and plastic.

An unfamiliar presence drew his attention to a man dressed in black robes with his back turned to Sam, looking through macrobinoculars. They were on a ridge and thick plumes of black smoke rose above a thick treeline.

The man turned and looked at him.

“Bucky?”

The man frowned. “I guess so.”

His voice was different, like the life had been lifted from it. And his eyes were different too--so pale they practically glowed. Bucky’s brow creased and he seemed more confused than filled with rage like before.

“I thought you were dead.”

Bucky said nothing. He looked back over the ridge. “I might as well be.”

It felt like a knife twisting in Sam’s chest. For years, he struggled to free himself from his attachment to Bucky. He was dead, and Sam wasn’t supposed to feel that way about another person, anyway. That’s what the Order wanted from him, so that’s what he told himself. 

“We gotta move.” Sam forced himself to sit up and roll onto his knees. His helmet lay a few feet away, upright on a rock. “Those scavengers will look for the ship, and us if we’re near it.”

“They’re not scavengers. They’re HYDRA.”

“Who?”

“HYDRA.”

“I heard you the first time. _Who_?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Okay, fine.” Sam spared Bucky one last look without the helmet before popping it back over his head. This man was a shell of the Bucky he once knew, and his heart ached. “I gotta find Steve.”

“Who is Steve?”

“The man I was with.”

“Oh, the one you have feelings for.”

“What--” Sam blushed behind his helmet. “No--”

“Where did you get the armor?”

“Steve,” Sam lied. It wasn’t long ago that Bucky was trying to kill him and Steve. Could he be trusted? “Where’d you get the red lightsaber?”

“It was given to me by HYDRA.” Bucky turned and looked in the direction of the crashed cruiser, then at Sam. “We have to find the bridge of the cruiser before HYDRA.”

“What’s on the bridge?”

“I don’t know. It’s why they wanted you. To unlock it for them.”

Sam squinted. “Huh?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky repeated. “Let’s go.”

\---

What a shitty day Steve Rodjers was having.

The escape pod crashed into the side of a tree covered mountain. The impact knocked Steve out, and when he woke up, he was hanging almost upside down in his harness from the way the pod landed.

“Stupid pod. Stupid scavengers. Stupid Empire.”

Steve continued swearing as he unhooked the harness. This action dropped him from his seat and onto his face on the other side of the pod. “Ow,” he said aloud.

The door had to be pried open with the meager tools at his disposal (he used a shovel because the mini torch was expired and had no fuel). Finally free, Steve tried to get his bearings.

Dxun was a small moon covered in thick forests and inhabited by wild beasts. Some Mandalorians still had outposts here, and at least one lumber company tried its hand at harvesting wood. But the terrain was harsh and the beasts were even worse, most places lost so many workers and droids to the carnivores that Dxun remained mostly unsettled.

Steve activated his shield and started walking toward the obvious crash site of the cruiser. Not too far away, the Imperial Cruiser that came out of hyperspace hovered in the atmosphere, and a stream of fighters landed on the surface several klicks away. Steve had no idea if Sam or the murder guy survived. Getting on a com channel with the Empire nearby was suicide, so he’d have to look for them without making a call.

_Sam_. Steve shut his eyes. He didn’t know exactly how to do it, but he knew Sam’s presence would be there somewhere in the Force. All he had to do was reach out. So he imagined Sam, and he imagined reaching out with his hand to touch him. Then Steve remembered right before Sam left him, Sam touched his helmet to Steve’s forehead. Steve had to wonder if Sam knew that was what the Mandalorians called a _Keldabe kiss_.

He felt something, and he wasn’t sure _what_ , but his face grew hot and he recoiled to the safety of his own mind.

A fighter flew toward Steve, and he dove into the underbrush for cover. The back of his neck prickled. He looked up at the nearest tree and grabbed onto it, climbing until he reached a height where he’d be out of sight from anyone on the ground.

A squad of Stormtroopers marched in his direction. They seemed tense. Something still bothered Steve, like these troopers weren’t the threat his gut reacted to.

Then there was a crash of leaves as a giant purple-striped beast barreled out from the cover of trees. Steve never saw a Nexu in real life, but he’d read about the beast’s terrifying screaming roar and its claws and teeth. The troopers didn’t really stand a chance.

Steve winced and covered his eyes. Then he heard the Nexu move on from the clearing. What the--oh, right. Nexu killed for fun sometimes. Oh, Force.

Only when Steve was sure the beast had moved on did he climb down from the tree to investigate the troopers. With a helmet, he could listen in on their coms. And they had blasters.

Things were turning around for Steve Rodjers now.

\---

“This is the closest crash site,” Bucky explained. They hid behind a tree and shared the macrobinoculars to get a better look at the piece of ship. Stormtroopers were already patrolling the area. “It looks like it could be the bridge.”

Sam handed the macrobinoculars back to Bucky. “I still don’t understand what I have to do with this. I thought you came to kill me.”

“No. HYDRA wants you.”

“Me?”

“They want to mind wipe you and use you.”

“Is that what happened to you?”

Bucky looked at Sam wordlessly. Then he focused on the troopers. “We need to get into the ship.”

Easy enough. The war taught Sam plenty of tricks, like how to move silently by using the Force to mask the noise of his feet, and also to distract the enemy with false sounds and the suggestion to leave and check it out. Once he got the immediate area cleared of troopers, he motioned to Bucky to follow him. They had to scale the side of the crashed ship to squeeze through an opening. Once they were in, Sam got his bearings. He’d been on plenty of ships like these, and this looked like it would be close to the bridge.

“If you were under the Dark Side--HYDRA’s control, how did you break free?” Sam asked as he led them down the hall. The way the ship tilted, they had to straddle the wall and the floor and walk carefully along the angled surfaces.

Bucky stopped. Sam looked over his shoulder at him.

“You have feelings for Steve like you had feelings for me. When I felt your feelings, I remembered who I was.”

“Okay, _wait_ , that doesn’t make any sense--you and I--but, Steve and I-- _well_ \--”

“Your stammering isn’t very convincing. You like Steve. When I tried to kill him, you reacted. I remembered feeling something for you. Then I woke up.”

Sam lost his breath. He’d been more than friends with Bucky on several occasions. It was not the Jedi way. Even if Sam convinced himself that he cared for Bucky like a friend, and that their physical relationship was a way for them to cope with what was happening on Salliche--no, these were lies. They were more than casual. Sam blinked away the memories.

“I’m glad you’re back,” Sam told him.

“Are you?”

Sam smiled. “Yes.”

Bucky’s blank expression sowed doubt into Sam’s mind. He’d done so much to tear Bucky from his heart and memory that having him back was more than a little troubling.

Sam and Bucky pressed on through the crashed cruiser. They forced open several doors and eventually made it to the bridge. Sam had to climb to the main console and then hover in front of it with his jet pack.

“What am I looking for?”

“A biometric scanner. Programmed only for someone of the Jedi Order.”

Sam squinted and finally found an input console. It required a fingerprint, so he had to remove his glove.

The console opened a secret compartment and a gold cube-shaped item slipped out of it and fell, bouncing off another console before landing on the floor/wall across the bridge. Bucky jumped over and grabbed it.

“A holocron?” Sam asked.

“Yes.”

“What’s in it?”

“I’m not sure. But we don’t want it to fall into HYDRA’s possession.”

Sam tilted his head at Bucky. His mind was a big, blurry puzzle that was hard to read. But he seemed genuine--and afraid.

Bucky handed the holocron to Sam after he climbed back from the main console, then they started heading back through the ship. When they reached the opening to the outside, they heard a Stormtrooper investigating the crash site.

“Hey! There they are! They’re--”

_Blam_. A blaster shot the trooper in the back, and he fell to the ground. Sam used the opening to jump down to the ground, followed by Bucky. _Blam blam blam_.

“Sam!”

_Steve?_

“Behind you!” Steve shouted.

The blaster fired over Sam’s head, narrowly missing Bucky.

“Wait! It’s okay!” Sam held up his hands. “Don’t shoot!”

Steve climbed down from a nearby tree. He looked utterly ridiculous with an ill-fitting Stormtrooper helmet on his head. “So we’re okay with the guy that tried to kill us a second ago?”

“Sorry,” Bucky mumbled.

“He was brainwashed by the Dark Side,” Sam felt his face split into a smile at seeing Steve alive. “He helped me find this Jedi holocron, which could have valuable data stored in it. We need to get back to the _Liberty_.”

“Yeah, about that. She blew up.”

“Oh, Steve.”

“It was a shoddy ship anyway. Any other bright ideas?”

“We can steal the shuttle of the battalion commander,” said Bucky, fists clenched at his sides. “I feel his presence. He’s here.”

Steve looked between Bucky and Sam, looking exaggerated in the helmet. “So are we a team now, or what?”

Bucky looked down at his boots. Sam nodded. “Yeah. Guess we are.”

\---

They took a moment’s rest near a stream, and so Sam could examine the holocron. The air, thick with humidity and heat, was suffocating in all of their gear. Bucky knelt beside the stream and let the cool water brush his fingertips while Steve cleaned the blaster rifle.

“Were you a Jedi?” Steve asked Bucky.

“No.”

“Then how come--with the--lightsaber and all?”

“I was captured before the war and brainwashed. I was sent to hunt down Jedi with the Jaig Death Squad. Were _you_ a Jedi?”

“Nope.” Then Steve fell silent.

“What happened to your arm?” Sam asked gently. Bucky seemed open to answering questions. Maybe to help clear the air.

“I lost it on Salliche during the raid you thought killed me.”

“I see. I’m sorry.”

Bucky shrugged. “The new one works well.”

“No kidding,” Sam said with a snort.

Bucky looked at him with wide eyes, then, realizing Sam was joking, he tried on a smile. Sam reached over and gave him a little push on the shoulder.

The Imperial cruiser still loomed dangerously over their heads in the atmosphere. Sam calculated it wouldn’t be long before it deployed all of its fighters and search parties found them. He glanced down at the holocron in his hands and squinted. All of this for such a small device. But Sam knew the cube wasn’t simply a fancy flimsi weight for an office desk--the holocron could contain anything from ancient Force secrets to lost Jedi fighting arts.

Turning the holocron over in his hands, Sam brushed his thumb over one of the gold emblems of the Jedi order on the face of the cube. Then he shut his eyes. The holocron had its own Force presence and he touched it.

“Sam,” Bucky said.

He felt the holocron open in his hands.

_Hello, friend of the Jedi,_ said the holocron.

“Did you hear that?” Sam whispered.

“Hear what?” Steve asked.

_If you are listening to this message, then the Jedi have lost the war. Stored in this device are last known whereabouts of every Jedi Master, Jedi Knight, and Jedi Padawan deployed by the Grand Army of the Republic. Please, restore the Order. May the Force be with you._

Both Steve and Bucky gasped. The holocron projected a galaxy map with hundreds of coordinate points. They all stared in awe at the map for several seconds.

“What is it?” Bucky asked.

“Someone recorded the last known locations of the entire Jedi Order and put it in this holocron.” Sam’s brow furrowed as he gazed at all of the markers on the map. “I don’t know how useful it is--half of these Jedi could be already killed, for all we know.”

“Oh, Force,” Steve murmured. “Still, if the bad guys get that--the Jedi are toast, for sure. The troops can cover a lot of ground. It’s only a matter of time until they find all the survivors.” Steve looked over at Sam with a frown.

“What’s that?” Bucky asked, pointing to a large marker on the map on the Bakura system. Unlike the rest of the orange markers, this one was blue.

“Not sure.” Sam stared at it. “Maybe it was a Jedi stronghold, or…”

“A temple,” Bucky murmured.

Steve looked between the two of them and scrunched up his nose. “So?”

“Thousands of years ago, the Jedi used to have temples across the galaxy.” Sam shut the holocron and got up. “The Jedi would train students there, and maintained volumes of archives. Some were lost to time.”

“So the Empire could go to that temple and…” Steve gestured vaguely. “Get Jedi secrets.”

“Exactly,” said Bucky.

They decided to keep moving before another squadron of Imperial fighters passed over and found them. Dxun’s forests were thick and hard to navigate, but the three of them could move quickly, and with Bucky’s lightsaber, cut a path through the underbrush. The Stormtroopers would not move with such ease in their heavy armor. Sam looked over at Steve, who lagged a bit behind and seemed to have trouble navigating the terrain with the blaster and the trooper helmet.

“Why are you wearing that?” Bucky asked.

“I can hear all the com channels. And it’s easier than--ow--” his foot caught on a branch for a moment. “Carrying it. Anyway, they have no idea where we are.”

“Good,” said Sam, helping Steve over a tangle of tree roots and fallen branches.

“Still, it won’t be long. Once the HYDRA commander lands, he can find me easily,” Bucky said. He paused before cutting through a purple-leafed shrub and drew in a slow, deep breath. The man’s emotions were so muted it was hard for Sam to get a read on him. But under those layers of flat calm, Bucky was fighting something. Sam’s heart broke for him.

“Get down,” Bucky hissed.

They saw a small meadow ahead through the trees, and a platoon of Stormtroopers beside an Imperial shuttle were assembled on a hill. Sam crouched down and eyed a dark hooded figure standing at the bottom of the shuttle ramp. A chill clutched Sam like sharp claws and he couldn’t catch his breath for a moment. He felt a wave of nausea. _The Dark Side._

“That’s him,” Bucky said.

“I’ll distract them with my blaster and draw their fire,” Steve said. “You two get to the shuttle.”

“We’ll wait for you to get there,” Sam said.

Steve shrugged one shoulder. Sam glared at him. Steve said: “Just get out of here.”

“No. I won’t leave without you.”

“Anyway,” Bucky interrupted. He held out his hand for the holocron, which Sam hesitantly handed over to him. “They’ve already seen us. Follow my lead.”

Bucky got up and started toward the shuttle. He held up a hand. “Master. I’ve returned.”

“Byrns,” growled the hooded figure. He was far away, but Sam could still hear him. Sam guarded his own Force presence even more, bury himself deep in the ground and out of the Force.

“The holocron?”

“I found it without the Jedi’s help. He did not survive the crash.”

The hooded figure glided over to Bucky and took the holocron from him. Sam shot a look at Steve, who trained the blaster on the hooded figure.

“Sir--there are others, in the trees!” shouted a trooper.

Bucky sensed the tension in the air break and he tried to pull the holocron back into his grip. The Sith jumped backwards, holocron in hand. 

“Traitor!” the Sith growled at Bucky, pushing him violently away in the Force. Bucky slammed into a tree and fell forward onto his knees. The Stormtroopers opened fire.

“ _Osik_ ,” Steve cursed, returning fire with his own blaster.

Bucky struggled to his knees and activated his lightsaber, deflecting the blaster bolts coming at him. The Sith already retreated to the shuttle with the holocron. “No!” Bucky shouted.

Sam activated his jetpack and shot a flexwire at the shuttle, attaching to its wing, then he reeled himself in. Gravity pulled on him as the ship ascended. Blaster bolts whizzed by his head, and the best he could do to avoid them was keep moving and twisting in the air. “ _Shab_!” Sam swung his legs and used the momentum to propel himself onto the shuttle wing. He had less than a minute before the shuttle broke through the atmosphere and he burned to a crisp.

He managed to get footing on the shuttle’s wing thanks to the magnetic boots in his armor, but the shuttle veered violently to one side and threw him off. He started falling, but he tried to use the jetpack to reconnect with the wing. Warnings inside of his helmet berated him for the thin atmosphere and his suit struggled to pressurize from the massive power loss in the cruiser and during the crash.

Sam would be no use to the mission if he died before reaching the shuttle. He let himself into a controlled fall. The Sith escaped.

Back on the ground, Bucky and Steve made quick work of the Stormtroopers. Sam landed in a heap on the ground, feeling weak in the knees. Steve was instantly at his side. “Sam, that was really stupid--”

“Agreed,” said Bucky.

“But the holocron,” Sam panted. “He has the holocron.”

Steve and Bucky helped Sam back to his feet and back to the cover of the tree line. They could hear Imperial fighters buzzing overhead, headed back to the cruiser. Sam tore off his helmet and leaned up against a tree, trying to control his panic.

Bucky wrung his hands and watched the fighters trace across the sky. His anxiety twisted his presence in the force like a tightly coiled flexwire. “He won’t get it open,” he said. “He’ll come back for you, Sam.”

“Coms say they’re gonna jump out of the system, for now,” Steve reported. “Hey--wait--”

Some of the fighters above them broke off from formation and scrambled. Two ships emerged from the clouds above them, and the fighters opened fire on them. The ships were large but fast with agile cannons. One of the ships dove low to the tree line, clipping the canopy and drawing in fire from the Imperials, while the other circled overhead and started picking them off. Soon the new ships were the only ones left in the air, and Sam saw the Imperial cruiser disappear from the atmosphere as it made its hyperspace jump.

The two ships circled around their position and Steve climbed back into the clearing, flagging them down. One of the ship holds opened and Nat rode a flexwire harness down to them.

“What in the _haran_ happened?” she asked, scrutinizing the group with a glare. Sam with his scraped up Mandalorian armor, Bucky in all black with a lightsaber on his belt, and Steve with his giant trooper helmet on his head. It would have been funny to her if she didn’t think they’d all died. “What the kark are you wearing, Steve? And _who’s this guy_?”

“Surprise!” Steve said weakly, waving his hands. “I found another lost Jedi. Can we keep him?”

\---

Sha’ron set a roundabout hyperspace course around the Outer Rim to escape detection for a few hours while Fury took his own ship to a separate location. They gathered in the ship’s small common space while Steve made caf. In the chaos of the past few hours, Sam almost forgot he’d been hit in the face a couple of times during the fight, and Bucky had a bloody head wound. Sha’ron got bacta pads for them while Nat watched with a severe glare. She seemed to be suspicious of Bucky even though Sam and Steve defended him and assured Sha’ron and Nat that he wasn’t under the influence of the Dark Side anymore.

“How did the Sith get the holocron? You said you _gave it_ to him?” Nat asked.

Bucky hunched over his legs while Sha’ron worked on the back of his head with bacta spray. Lifting his head, Bucky glanced up at Nat with tired eyes. “I thought I could trick him into thinking I was still on his side. When I realized that wasn’t going to work, I had to give him the holocron. If he didn’t escape with it, he would have killed all of us.”

Sam looked over at Bucky with a frown. “But the holocron has all of that data about the Jedi--”

“ _So_? He probably can’t even open it. I wasn’t going to let him kill you, Sam.”

Nat looked over at Sha’ron, then back at Bucky. “You can stay for a few days, then I need you gone.”

“I understand.”

“I’m going with him,” said Sam.

“And I’m going with them,” Steve said.

Nat rolled her eyes and shifted her weight to one side. “With what ship, Steve-O? You got yours blown up, remember? You gonna buy a new one?”

“Well, I have some ideas. We could turn Sam in for a bounty, collect, and bust him out.”

Sam’s eyes went wide. “Steve--”

“I’ve escaped jail so many times, Sam. It’ll be easy.”

“I could help,” Bucky offered. “Sounds kinda… fun.”

Sam pressed his palm to his forehead, which hurt from the massive bruise forming on his face. “Dammit.”

“You’ll need us to pull that stunt off,” Sha’ron said.

“Shar,” Nat whined, “not you too.”

“The sooner we can get Steve a ship for his crazy ideas, the better off we’ll be.”

“Maybe you could lend us your genius ideas so we don’t kark it up,” Steve said with a big grin.

“ _Fine_.”

“Do I get a say on whether or not I have to be arrested?” Sam looked between the others.

“Oh! I know!” Sha’ron snapped her fingers. “Steve’s got a 50,000 cred bounty on his head on Corellia. Let’s cash that one. It’ll be enough for a small ship.”

Steve frowned and tilted his head side to side, considering. “Okay, sure. It’s not like I could show my face on Corellia ever again.”

\---

While Shar’on and Nat worked out the details of their (ridiculous) plan, Bucky requested some rest while the bacta worked on his head. Steve gave Bucky a couple painkillers and they let him lay down in the crew quarters. Sam stood watch outside his room, worrying over some damage to the flexwire blaster on his gauntlet.

“Here, let me.” Steve took Sam’s hand in his and gently pulled Sam’s arm toward him so he could inspect the gauntlet. For a moment, he simply stared at it and held Sam’s hand. His thumb grazed Sam’s knuckles.

“Steve?” Sam whispered.

He lifted his eyes from their hands, curtained by messy blonde hair. His voice was low. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.” Sam pressed a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “For everything.”

Steve smirked at him, color filling his cheeks, and he pushed onto his toes to press a kiss to Sam’s lips. He wrapped his arms around the back of Sam’s neck to hold himself up and deepen the kiss. Sam hummed and squeezed his eyes shut as the Force flooded his senses--for the first time in months, he felt his chest swell with contentment and warmth.

“Mm,” Steve pulled back and smirked at Sam. “You were right about finding trouble. If we stick together, you won’t have a peaceful retirement from the army.”

“That’s alright with me.” Sam smiled and Steve traced his thumb over his bottom lip. “If you’re okay harboring a couple of fugitives.”

“I could do a lot worse.” Steve kissed him again.

_I know_ , Sam wanted to say. Trouble always found more trouble, after all.

“Jabba’s tooth,” Sha’ron swore, dangling off the ladder leading back up to the main ship. “Hate to interrupt your ‘moment.’ But since you blew up our only maintenance droid, I need your help with the ship, Rodjers.”

Sam tried to be polite and break off the kiss, but Steve practically climbed him to keep their lips together. “Mmph,” Steve responded to Sha’ron, holding up his finger for _one more second_.

“ _Now_ , Rodjers,” Sha’ron growled and climbed back up the ladder.

They kissed for what felt like an eternity. Sam could live in this moment for the rest of time. Then, reluctant, Steve moved his lips away and hovered his face near Sam’s. “Guess I better go help. Watch over Bucky?”

“Of course.”

Steve patted Sam’s cheek and disentangled his arms from him before moving over to the ladder. “Well, bye,” he said sheepishly, his face still red. Sam watched him climb and disappear onto the upper deck, then he went to sit next to Bucky.

The man slept peacefully for the first time in years without the influence of the Dark Side suffocating him. Sam rested his hand on top of Bucky’s forehead and shut his eyes, imparting some calm to his mind. The subtle crease in Bucky’s brow relaxed.

Bucky rustled and opened his eyes, so Sam withdrew his hand. Bucky caught it mid-air and squeezed. “Hey,” he said.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better. Still not great, though. I don’t… know what’s gonna happen to me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think the only thing keeping me from slipping back to the Dark Side is… you.”

Sam’s mouth dropped open. “Oh.”

“It’s okay, though,” Bucky said quickly, sitting up on his elbow. He let go of Sam’s hand and looked down. “Maybe I need some time to really break free. I don’t know. You’re the expert.”

“Whatever happens, I’m not gonna leave you, Bucky. Okay?”

A small smile tugged at Bucky’s lips, disappearing as fast as it came. “Okay, Sam.”

Sam leaned over and pressed his face into the side of Bucky’s head. He heard Bucky sigh, and the tense coil inside him released. Sam could feel the Force exuding calm again. Sam didn’t dare hope that they were out of the clear yet, but maybe he’d been wrong before. Maybe the Force _hadn’t_ forsaken him. Even if the Sith tried to control the galaxy, even if they never stopped hunting him, Sam’s heart felt full of something he thought he’d lost to the Order, and to the war.

Bucky squeezed his hand three times.


End file.
